Ilha da Magia

Florianopolis. Ilha do Santa Catarina. Ilha da Magia.

 

Unquestionable paradise.

 

It was a long 28-hour bus ride there from BA, crossing the somewhat sketchy Brazilian border in the middle of the night. When I woke up, I was surprised to find that the grass was greenest on this side; you know those highlighters that Flo decorates all of her notes with, the obscenely bright ones that inevitably get on your fingers no matter how long you wait for them to dry on the page? Yea, the green one. That´s the color of Brazil. The soil; brown? Why would you choose brown soil? Let us make it RED, violent red. And the sky? Well, let´s make it pretty blue during the day, but sunset, let us go all out and use every color we know. And then splash the sky with white at night.

 Even the cows are different on this side. They have this awesome hump projecting from their neck. Apparently it makes for really good, really fatty meat. By the way, forget being vegetarian at meal time in Brazil. Snacks, you´re set, between sucos, coconut water, queijo grilled right on the beach in a little charcoal bowl in front of you, churros filled with dulce de leche or chocolate. But meal time hits, and a vegetarian request lands you a frango sanduiche (chicken sandwich).

 Back to Floripa. So I arrived, and having no idea where my hostel was (truly NO clue), I figured it must be on the other side of the island, and so hopped on a bus with some Ozzies from the trip. They had to switch at one point, so I hopped off and started walking, hoping for the best. Mind you, the island is still probably 70 Km from North to South, so this was a serious shot in the dark. I asked the first local, and guess what? It was around the corner.

 I rushed to cross the lake/lagoon, and climb the hill over to the beach while it was still light. I hopped over one last hill, and there it was, Soft Beach, Praia Mole. Kilometers of pristine sand, with the ends chopped by huge rounded rocks. Surfers galore. Hippies everywhere. Young. Clean. Beautiful.

 Over the next days before Carnaval, I met some great characters at the wonderful Casa Brasil, a small hostel with hammocks out front and the most wonderful receptionist/barrista who made some lethal caipirinhas. When Carnaval began, I moved on over to Backpackers Sunset, which was a great location on the top of the hill to the beaches, with the most incredible view of the Lagoa da Conceição, but due to the masses needing room, the place was out of control. I formed a good group with a whole bunch of people from all over naturally, and we explored the island together over Carnaval.

 Betwee the elegant beaches of the North, to the secluded beaches of the South, the freezing water of the East, to the freakishly warm water of the West, the sand dunes and the mountains for hiking, and the partying which left us all out of breath, it was a crazy week. It just so happened that David Guetta was playing at Pasha, a 12,000 (yes, you read right) person club; and incredible night of dancing and smiling and watching the sun rise over a mountain of people.

 The last night was the biggest treat of all. Carnaval, the parade. So Carnaval is traditionally the top samba schools of the region competing in a parade held several times throughout the five days of Carnaval. Each school is given a theme, and on that they find the hundreds of people at the school to participate dancing, making costumes, and mounting floats. Each samba school comes from a different town in Santa Catarina in Florianopolis, and they have to have a song for their company. We went to the final night, which only had the three winners; the show lasted 8 hours. We were all exhausted, and it was cold after a nasty storm. But when the party finally started, there was no sleeping--- dancing in the stands, caipirinhas, singing! The parade was absolutely unbelievable. The women could be classified as the following:

The general participants, who were grouped into batches of 100 ish, and wore the more outrageous costumes

The little girls in their dream costumes of glitter and sparkles and crowns and sparkles and glitter

The older women in the most incredible hooped gowns spinning and spinning

The babes with the most absurd bodies filing out by the hundreds (HOW DO THEY DO IT HOW ARE THERE SO MANY OF THEM) in thongs and nipple covers and feathers. VERY nice.

 

The dancing.. oh the samba! It looks like just moving your feet as fast as humanly possible and shaking your hips at the same time and smiling like a crazy person.It was so lovely, when it ended at 2 AM, we couldnt help but stay and dance on their path, sucking up all the energy left over, and trying on all the costumes that they had shed on the way.

 

It is nicknamed Ilha da Magia, and it positively is. I would go back in a flash. And who knows...